as 



NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. 




A Majority of One 



|£ 




COPYRIGHT, 1S89, BY WALTER H. BAKER ix, Cu. 



piays for /Amateur 5l7eatrieal8. 

BV CSORCe 7^. B3=5:KER, 

Author of ^* Amateur Drafnas,'* "The Mimic Stngre** "The Social Stage,** "The Drtvming- 
RoojH Stagey ''''Handy Dra7nasy ^''The Exhibition Dramas^'* "A Baker'' s Dozeft^ etc. 

Titles in this Type are New Plays. 

Titlns in thin if/pe at'e Temperance Tlays, 



DRAMAS. 

/;/ Four Acts. 

Better than Gold. 7 male, 4 female 
char 25 

In Three A cis. 

Our r'»llcs. 6 male, 5 female char. • 15 

The Flower of the Family. 5 
male, 3 female char 15 

Eniisted fok the War. 7 male, 3 fe- 
mal^char 15 

My Brother's Keeper. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char. 15 

Thi' JAUie Jirtncn tTitf/, 5 male, 3 
female char • • • • 15 

/;/ T7V0 Acts. 
Above the Clouds. 7 male, 3 female 

char. •IS 

One Hundred Years Ago. 7 male, 

4 female char 15 

Amonc; the Breakers. 6 male, 4 female 

char 15 

Bread on the Waters. 5 male, 3 female 

char .- , 15 

D nvN BY the Sea, 6 male, .3 female 



char. 



Once on a Time. 4 male, 2 female char. 15 
The Ijust L.oaf, 5 male, 3 female char. 15 



In One A ct. 
otand by the Flag. 5 male char. . . 
Vhc Tempter, 3 male, i female char. 

COMEDIES AND FARCES. 

A Mysterious Disappearance. 4 

male, 3 female char. .,».,,. 
Paddle Your Owu Canoe. 7 male 

3 female char. . , . . , 

A Drop too Mucli, 4 male, i female 

char - 

A JAttif ?loreCidfr, 5 male, 3 fe-. 
male char. 

A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 6 ■ 
female char , , . 

a'Crvbr ?^ay Die. 3 male, 3 female char. 

'^iEEiNG the Elephant. 6 male, 3 female 
char 

The Boston Dip. 4 male, 3 female char. 

The Duchess of Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- 
male char o . . . 

Thirty Minutes for Refreshments. 

4 male, 3 female char. 

We.*re nil Teetotalers. 4 male, 2 fe- 
male char. ....••••.• 

Mnie Characters Only. 
A Close Shave. 6 char. ...... 

A Public Rfnefactor. 6 char. . . . 

A Sh>» of Troubles. 8 char. .... 



»5 

,'5 

15 

IS 



WALTER H. BAKER & CO 



COMEDIES, etc., continued. 

Male Characters Only. 

A Tender Attachment. 7 char. . . 15 

Coals OF Fire. 6 char. ...... 15 

Freedom of THE Press. 8 char. ... 15 

Shall Onr Mother** Vot*^? 1 1 char. 15 

Gentlemen OF THK Jury. 12 char. . . 15 

Humors OF THE Strike. 8 char. . . . js 

My Uncle THE Captain. 6 char. . . . 15 

New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. . 15 

The Great Elixir. 9 char 15 

I HK Hypochondriac. 3 char 15 

* /«e Man with the JJemiJohu. 4 

char. 15 

The Runaways. 4 char. ...... 15 

The Thief of Time. 6 char 15 

Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. . • • 15 

female Characters Only. 

A Love OF A Bonnet. 5 char. .... 15 

A Precious Pickle. 6 char 15 

No Cure No Pay. 7 char 15 

The Champion OF Her Sex. 8 char. . 15 

The Create*;t Plague in Life> 8 char. 15 

The Gkkcian Bend. 7 char. .... 15 

The Red Chignon. 6 char 15 

Using THE Weed. 7 char. ..... 15 

ALLcGORIES. 

A rranged/or Music and Tableaux . 

Lighthart's, Pilgrimage. 8 female 
char. 15 

Tnii Kevolt of the Bees. 9 female 
cher. Is 

The Sculptor's Triumph, i male. 4 fe- 
male char ». . 13 

The Tournament of Idylcourt. 10 fe- 
male char. .......... 15 

The War of the Roses. 8 female char. 15 

The Voyage of Life. 8 female char. . 15 

MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC. 

An Original Idea, i male, i female 15 
Bonbons; or, the Paint King, 6 male, 

I female char. .';......, 2 1; 

Capuletta; or, Roii,jEO and Julit i i -. 

Restored. 3 male, i female char. 
Santa Claus* Frolics.. . , . •. . 
Snow-bound; or, Alonzo the Bravi 

and the Fair Imogene. 3 male, . 

female char. . . '. , 

The Merry Christmas of thk O: 

Woman who Lived in a Shof; i - 

The Pedler or Very Nice. 7 

char. ...•...^•..* *^ 

The Seven Ages. A Tableau Enrertai; 

ment. Numerous male and female chn 
Too Late for the Train. 2 male cha 1 
The Visions of Freedom. 11 fema 

char , . . 13 

., 23 Winter St., Boston. 



A MAJORITY OF ONE 



OR 



LOVE AND MUSHROOMS 



^ JTarce in ©ne ^ct 



BY 

FRANCIS A. HARRIS, M.D, 



FREELY ADAPTED FROM THE GERMAN 



^l']^^ 



BOSTON 



■ I r - • — ——rmr-mammmmmm\ — -^"^ 



1892 



^^1 






CHARACTERS. 

TIMOTHY NORCROSS, a retired grocer^ and at this time a candidate for 

the Legislature, 
A. WARD HEELER . , . . Manager of Nor cross'' campaign 

HENRY MASON Nephew of the opposing candidate 

ALICE HALE Niece of Norcross^ just home from school 

MARY Servant in hotel where Nor cross boards 

Costumes, modern. Time, the present day. 




Copyright, 1892, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



A MAJORITY OF ONE 



Scene. — A room of the country hotel of a New England village. 
The room is the public parlor^ with doors opening on left nti7n- 
bered 3 and 4. Also doors at back. Open fireplace with logs 
not fired. Appropriate furniture. 

{Enter from door l. Norcross and Heeler, the latter with his 
hat on.) 

Heeler. Now don't you fret your gizzard, Norcross. Every- 
thing is cut and dried. Your name is as sure to be on the roll of the 
next Legislature as mine is to be on my tombstone ''Hie Jacket '''* 
{mispronouncing) '* A. Ward Heeler." 

Norcross (with dignity). Ah, Heeler, there is nothing sure in 
this world, nothing ! Still, if my fellow-citizens shall deem me the 
person most worthy to protect their interests in the great and 
general court, and shall of their own accord elect me, unbiassed by 
any personal influence, and with no attempt at bribery — by the 
way, did you open that barrel of ale down at Goat Acre 1 

Heel. To be sure I did. There wasn't a man that did not have 
a full-blown jag inside of an hour, and everybody was cheering for 
Norcross. 

Nor. Well, Heeler, if there is one thing more than another 
that I reprobate, it is the abuse of intoxicating liquor ; yet I am 
told that the gentle stimulation of malt beverages is not injurious. 

Heel. You won't find it injurious when it comes to voting, I 
can tell you. 

Nor. I truly hope the ale will have no such effect as to make 
any man vote against his convictions of what is right — ahem! — 
what was I saying? — ah, yes — with no efforts at bribery, far be 
it from me to refuse the call of my country. Patriotism demands of 
every man any sacrifice, whether he be American by birth, or 
American by adoption — by the way — you got those Italians natu- 
ralized in time } 

Heel. Yes ; and paid their poll-tax. 

Nor. That's right. Heeler. See that no man is^prived of the 
right of suffrage by poverty alone. Yes, sir, evejjji I should be 
required to give up my comfortable room in this hotel, and should 
be asked to expatriate myself as a minister to a foreign power, 
patriotism would force me to it, Heeler ; I feel sure it would. 

3 



4 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Heel. Ah, sir, your principles are well known. 

Nor. I hope you have circulated my views on civil service, — no 
removals but for cause. 

Heel. But, sir — 

Nor. Oh ! you shall have the post-office. Your work for me 
would be cause enough for the removal of the other fellow ; but 
{^for the first thne observing Heeler's hat, and begin^iing very 
quietly, and gradually working into a passion), Heeler, allow me, 
in the mildest manner in the world, to inquire in, as I may say, the 
politest terms possible to a man of refinement and breeding, and 
a candidate for the general court, why you persist in keeping your 
infernal hat on your miserable old head .^ Take it off, sir ; take it 
off. (Heeler rej/toves hat.) There, sir, that is more respectful. 
I don't wish to be severe, but as a man swears at a mule, I must 
speak to you in a language that you understand. 

Heel. Yes, sir ; certainly, sir. Excuse me. I forget sometimes. 
My head is so full of business. You have no idea of the amount 
of work I have put in in the last fortnight. What with seeing this 
man and interviewing that one ; talking prohibition to the clergy- 
men and license to rounders, — and, by the way, I had a hard job with 
the Metl^odists ; your opponent is a member of that church, — and 
then the drinks on the sly here, there, and everywhere ; I can hardly 
tell if I have a head on my shoulders, much less a hat on my head. 
If it had not been for patriotism and a post-office, I never could 
have done it — never. {Puts his hat on again.) 

Nor. Then you think I have a sure thing .^^ 

Heel. A good safe majority, believe me. 

Nor. Good enough. I respect you. Heeler — (noticing that 
Heeler has replaced his hat) and speaking of respect, I am 
prompted in perfect good humor to remark that if you don't re- 
move that confounded hat from your pate, I'll kick you out of the 
room, do you hear.^ 

Heel, (removing hat) . Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Oh, I forgot, there 
is one thing that is working against you, though. The matter I 
mentioned last week. 

Nor. What was that ? 

Heel, (embarrassed). Why — er — I — well — the fact that 
you do not live with your wife. 

Nor. (quietly). Oh, that.? Eh? 

Heel. The opposition are making quite a handle of it. They 
say, sir, that such a state of things is highly immoral ; that is (put- 
ting on his hat),\t''s quite awkward to talk about — 

Nor. (aside). And a mighty sight more awkward just at the 
present time that it is a fact. (Aloud.) I've looked out for that. 
It's all provided for, and I'll see that it does me no harm. 

Heel, (surprised). Ah ! have you indeed? 

Nor. Yes. Now you go and — (seeing hat) and if you value 
my esteem, observe me when I say that if I see your gibbering old 
jaws capped with that beastly old tile in my presence, I'll knock 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 5 

the Stuffing out of you, even if it does the same to my canvass, 
hear me ? 

Heel, {taking off haf). Yes, sir. 

Nor. You just get it noised around now that this afternoon my 
wife and I are going to visit the high school together. 

Heel. But how is it possible ? 

Nor. That's my affair. Just you go and do as I say. 

Heel. That will be a good move. {Going -^ puts on hat.) V\\ 
hurry. I say — couldn't you manage to take a few children along 
with you ? 

"Nor. Children ? What the deuce do I want of children? 

Heel. Why, important educational matters are to come before 
the next Legislature, and the people imagine that a man will 
take more interest in such matters if he has children of his own. 
Now Morse, your opponent, has two. 

Nor. I do hate a liar, — that is on principle, — but you may say 
that I have two — no — make it three children — {sees hat) and 
with all the composure in the world, I venture to remark that I'll 
kick your miserable old carcass from here to the park, if you will 
persist in keeping that greasy old plug on your head another 
minute (Heeler takes off hat. Quietly) — three children, — 
Thomas, Richard, and Henry. 

Heel. If we only had them here. Oh, I fancy that Thomas, 
Richard, and Henry would have great influence with — with, well, 
Tom, Dick, and Harry. 

Nor. You are laboring with a joke. Heeler. Don't do it ! Hav- 
ing them here is out of the question. Just ask the people to over- 
look their inability to be in two places at the same time. Now go. 

{Exit Heeler, door c.) 

I respect the feelings of an enhghtened and intelligent public, 
and I fully appreciate their careful inspection of the belongings 
of a candidate. But — children ! What will the idiots want next "^ 
I've promised to go in for a new park and a new wall around the 
cemetery, though, as the lamented Jim Fiske said, I can't see 
what the use of that is. " Those that are in can't get out, and 
those that are out don't want to get in." However, I've promised 
all this, and now they want a wife and children. Good job they 
don't want them to be twins or triplets. Wife be hanged ! or any- 
thing else unpleasant. I've lived altogether too comfortably since 
she took a notion to go West with my bookkeeper to wish her back. 
Still, I won't risk my election for a trifle like that. Luckily she ran 
away before I came to this town, and since nowadays seeming is 
as good as being, I've provided a way out of the wife question. 
Now — 

{Enter at c, Mary.) 

Mary. Excuse me, sir, there is a young lady inquiring for you- 
^o^, {turns quickly). Aha! Show her in here. 



6 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Mary {speaking out off stage). Right this way. {Exit.) 
Nor. Aha ! Here she is — my wife, that is, by proxy ; here 

comes the means to satisfy the free and enlightened public — and 

be hanged to them ! 

{E7tter c, Alice, with wraps, satchel^ etc.y which she puts on 
table and then embraces Norcross.) 

Alice. How do you do, uncle dear? 

Nor. {mysteriously). Hush ! Not so loud. Don't call me 
uncle. 

AiACK {astonished). What! 

NOR. I'll explain presently. Who came with you ? 

Alice. Only an old lady who has relatives here. 

NoR. Good enough ! Well, my child, I sent to your boarding- 
school for you because I want you to render me an important 
service. 

Alice. Service ? Ah, if you knew what a service has been 
rendered to me to-day ! I haven't even now recovered from the 
excitement. 

NoR. Ah? Well, never mind that. Now, my dear — 

Alice {interrupting). A young man who came in the coach 
with me — 

Nor. Never mind the young man. Now the fact is — 

Alice. But I do mind him. He was a perfect gentleman — 
just too sweet to live — 

Nor. That is not of the slightest consequence. Now I — 

Alice. Oh, and so brave ! Only for him I should have been 
killed. 

Nor. What ! Killed ? 

Alice. He saved my life. 

Nor. Who ? 

Alice. This nice young man. 

Nor. Well, much obliged. I'll call on him and thank. him in 
person. {Aside.) I don't see why a nice young man who goes 
about saving people's lives should turn up just now. It's very awk- 
ward. {Aloud.) Now, my child, you know that at some time you 
will be my heiress, will have all I possess, and to-day I want you to 
do me a small favor. 

Alice. A favor to you. Of course, dear uncle. 

Nor. Hush ! Don't call me uncle. When you marry, my 
dear, I'll give you a splendid outfit. But to-day you must do me a 
trifling favor. 

Alice. Well ? 

Nor. In the first place, you know you have three children. 

Alice {springing back) . What ! 

Nor. {quietly). Three children, — Thomas, Richard, and 
Henry. All at present away at school. 

Alice. But, my dear uncle. 

Nor. Great Scott ! Will you stop calling me uncle ! You are 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 7 

my wife. (Alice expresses bewilderment.') So you see, I can't be 
your uncle if I am your husband. You are simply your aunt, Mrs. 
Norcross. 

Alice. I don't understand it at all. {Weeping?) I can't be my 
own aunt. 

^o^. {looking around hastily) . Hush! Don't cry, or folks will 
think we don't live happily. Remember 'tis only for a day. To- 
morrow you shall be my niece again, as before. 

Alice {still crying). But why must I be my aunt ? 

{Enter c, Mary. Goes and gets glasses from sideboard j sees 
Alice crying; exit shaking her head compassionately.) 

Nor. That's my secret. It is enough for you to know that 
circumstances in which I am placed render it necessary. It is con- 
nected with important matters affecting the welfare of the country. 
So, above all things, keep your mouth shut. I'll do everything for 
your happiness hereafter, but until to-morrow don't say a word that 
you're not my wife. Do you understand 1 Not to any one. 

Alice. Well, I won't. It's a bargain, uncle. 

Nor. {nervous). Hush! Don't say uncle. Did you bring 
your school report with you ? 

Alice. Yes, uncle. 

Nor. {anxious). Goodness gracious ! will you quit that uncle! 
(Alice in chair. Norcross on table.) 

Alice {aside). If I only could. 

Nor. Call me Timothy. Your own Timothy. Try it once, 
just once — now — one, two, three. 

Alice {laughs). Yes, my own dear Timothy. 

Nor. Capital ! Capital ! I declare if you keep that up you shall 
have a sealskin. Now let me see your report. 

Alice {getti^ig paper froin satchel and giving it) . Here it is. 

Nor. {reads). " Mathematics good. Geography good. His- 
tory good. Language bad." What ! Do you use bad language ? 
Fie, Fie ! 

Alice. No ; that means foreign language, — French, etc. 

Nor. .Oho, I see. {Reads.) *' Punishments " — 

K\A(Z^ {nervous) . Oh, dear! {Aiace. at k. fro?U, goes up and 
down.) 

Nor. {reads). "March 5, twenty lines for making faces at the 
teacher." What's this 1 You make faces at the teacher.'* How 
disrespectful ! 

Alice. I couldn't help it. She would make such a guy of her- 
self. No girl could help making fun. 

Nor. Oh ! couldn't she ? Guy was she ? Now what did you 
do ? Eh ? 

Alice {nervous). Oh ! I — 

Nor. Come, come now, I want to see. Do it again. 

Alice. I don't want to — 



8 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 



Nor. I must see. Perhaps you were not punished enough. 

Alice (^putting her fingers to her 7iose). That was all. 

Nor. Ha ! Ha ! Twenty lines for that. Poor thing ! {Reads.) 
** April I, fifty lines for pinning a paper on the teacher's back." 

Alice. That was the fault of the day, unc — Timothy dear. 

ISlOR. (/>/eased). So it was. April fool, eh ? (Reads,) ** April 
lo, one hundred Hues for being caught reading a novel." {Gravely.) 
What! Do you read novels? 

Alice (con/used). Oh, if he knew I had one in my satchel now ! 
(Aloud.) Why, you see I was not punished for reading a novel. 
I was punished for being caught reading. 

Nor. Ah ! You are getting the world's philosophy early, my 
dear. It^s always the way. We are only punished for being caught. 
(Sternly ; crosses.) If I hear of your reading novels again I'll send 
you to a convent. 

Alice. Yes, uncle. 

Nor. (turns). Confound it ! can't you stop saying uncle? 

Alice. Yes, uncle. 

Nor. (stamps feet). There you go again. 

Alice. I didn't mean to, Timothy. 



(Eftter Mary.) 



Your room is ready, 



Mary (coming from Alice's room). 
Miss 

Nor. Miss ? Miss ? What's got into your head ? This lady 
(laying his hand on her arm tenderly) is my wife, Mrs. Norcross. 

Mary. Your wife? (Aside.) Aha! That accounts or their 
quarrelling as soon as they come together. (Aloud to Norcross.) 
Then you only want one room ? 

Nor. {disconcerted ; up and down) . Yes — Yes — we want two. 
(Aside to Mary.) My wife snores frightfully. 

Mary. All right. Your wife can have that room next to yours. 
(Pointing to No. 3.) 

Nor. Thatll just suit. 

Mary. Ah ! what the folks say is true. This is an unhappy 
marriage. 

Nor. Now, my dear duxy wuxy, go and change your things, 
and while my little dovey is dressing Pll look over my speech once 
more. In a quarter of an hour we will take a stroll up to the high 
school. I want you to see some of the people here — (Alice shuts 
off speech with her door. Aside) and all of the people here to see 
you. 

(Exit Norcross into 4 as Alice into 3.) 

Mary. All their hugging and their duxy wuxys don't fool me. 
They must lead a cat-and-dog life. 

(Enter c, Henry Mason. Arms full,— satchel^ umbrella, 
overcoat, etc.) 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 9 

Henry {mysteriously), St — st — my dear, st — 

Mary {ttirns and sees hiin)^ Ah, another traveller! What can 
I do for you, sir ? 

Henry. My hands are full. Just see if you can find a quarter 
in my vest pocket. {VIkky feels in pockety and it tickles Henry so 
that he squirms,) Oh ! Ah ! 

Mary. What's the matter? 

Henry. You tickle me so. 

Mary. Here's the quarter. {Producing it.) 

Henry. All right. Just hold onto it. Tell me, didn't two 
young ladies stop here just now? — one of them say about sixty. 

Mary {laughs). Yes, sir, 2. young lady oi sixty did stop here. 

Henry. You know what I mean. See if you can't find another 
quarter. {VIaky feels ; same business.) 

Mary. Here it is. 

Henry. Just hold onto it, will you. Where is she now ? 

Mary. Who? The sixty? 

Henry. No. The other. 

Mary {pointing to No. 3). She's in there in her room. 

Henry. Take me to her at once. {Going towards 3.) 

Mary {running in front of door). No, sir ; not if I know it. 
For shame, sir! she's dressing. 

Henry. What! You won't? 

Mary. Not for the world. 

Henry. Have you got those quarters? 

Mary. Yes. 

Henry. Then oblige me by putting them back into my vest 
pocket. (Mary does it ; same btisiness of squirjning.) 

Mary. There they be. Law, how ticklish you be ! 

Henry. Now I want a room. 

Mary. Very well, sir. 

Henry. And I — 1 am very thirsty. Do bring me a glass of 
beer. 

Mary. Beer ? Why this is a temperance house ! 

Henry. Temperance^ eh ? Then bring me a whiskey punch, 

Mary. What do you mean ? • 

Henry. Oh, I know these te7nperance hotels ! There is plenty 
of drink to be had, only the quality is mighty bad and the price 
higher. 

Mary. Really, sir, we do not keep any liquor. 

Henry. All ri<jht, then. Bring me a glass of milk. {Signifi- 
cantly.) Milk. Do you understand ? 

Mary. Directly, sir. {Puts Alice's properties on chair; 
Henry puts his on table ; Mary at door.) That's a queer sort of 
man anyway. {Exit c.) 

Henry. Then I shall see her again. By Jove ! That's good 
luck. Ah ! little did I think when Uncle Jonas Morse wrote to me 
to come home and vote for him at the coming election, what an 



lO A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

adventure I should have on the way. Little did I think when I 
started partially with the intention^of offering my heart and my 
hand to my Cousin Nellie, that I should lose the heart aforesaid 
before I saw her. Yet Fate was in the way. Fate in the shape of 
a lumbering old coach, which contained besides myself two ladies, 
one of uncertain age, or rather of a confoundedly certain age, and 
the other an angel. I declare, the little feather on the back of her 
hat might have been the tip of one of her wings for all I know. 
Such a trim little figure ! such lovely features ! Eyes, heavenly ; 
nose, heavenly, or at least with aspirations that way, for it was 
turned up just the least in the world ; hps that looked like cherries. 
I wish I knew if they tasted like them, and a foot — such a foot! 
A good, stout little foot too, for she tried it. At the rise of a long 
hill the driver asked if we would get out and walk. The party of 
the first part, I mean the old lady, was asleep and snoring. I got 
out ; the young woman got out too. We walked together, and she 
plucked flowers. I helped her till she had ^ whole handful of 
buttercups and daisies, and I nearly as many, when suddenly there 
broke through the bushes by the roadside an animal. ** Oh, 
heavens! " she cried, "a wild bull! " I sprang forward to protect 
her, to save her at the risk of my own life, when the beast sidled 
up to me and tried to get the buttercups from my hand. It was 
only a playful calf, or rather a young steer, who wanted a nibble. 
Quite harmless and very good natured. I gave him the flowers 
and he walked away. When I looked for the angel, she lay in a 
swoon upon the ground. Presently she came to, and asked the 
usual questions as to her whereabouts, and finally remarked {i7nu 
tating), " I remember now ;" insisted on calling me her saviour, pre- 
server, and things of that sort. Of course I did not object, and the 
rest of our trip was occupied by her in expressing her gratitude in 
the liveliest manner by words, looks, and in fact sighs. They say 
*'Come weal, come woe ; "with me it was,*^ Come veal, come joy." We 
divided an orange, and she devoured my heart with every slice, while 
I devoured her with my eyes. Mighty sour too. I mean the slices, 
not the eyes. Heigho ! Cousift Nellie, you've lost one chance for a 
husband. Uncle Jonas shall have my vote, but the call of kinship 
can go no farther, or at least no father-in-law. 

{Enter Alice from No. 3 ; costume slightly changed. At first 
she does not observe Henry.) 

Henry {aside'). There's my angel. {Takes up satchel and 
kisses it. A loud ^ Miss, permit me. 

Alice {startled). Oh ! My gracious ! How you startled me ! 
{With feeling.) Oh, my preserver ! 

Henry. It strikes me that instead oi preserving you, I really got 
yovL out o^ ^pickle. {Alicy. looks sober. Aside.) She does not see 
the joke, /thought it wasn't bad. {Aloud; with feeling.) You 
left your satchel in the coach ; I would have gladly kept it as a 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. II 

souvenir of an occasion only too sweet and too short, wlien that 
lovely hair — (Alice takes cnie end of bag and crosses^ and Henry 
keeps the other end^ as if to help her.^ 

Alice. My goodness ! you haven't opened it, have you ? That 
hair isn't mine. It's my aunt's — a new switch I bought her. It's 
a perfect match ; you can't tell which is switch. 

Henry. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! very good. (Alice looks sober.) 
Why, she didn't mean it. / thought it wasn't bad; I'll try. You 
say news which she sent for. Ah, the news which I would send 
for. 

Alice {taking satchel). You are too kind. Is it not odd that we 
meet so soon again ? 

Henry. Odd .? Even so. (Alice looks grave. Aside.) She 
doesn't see that either, /thought it wasn't <^^<^. {Aloud.) Yet 
not strange. How can the poor moth keep away from the flame 
that has once dazzled him 1 I am the moth ; you are the flame — 
no, I mean candle — no, confound it! flame is the better word. 
{Aloud.) Yes, the flame. 

Alice. How complimentary you are ! 

Henry. Ah, can I ever forget that ride, that orange we ate 
together! 

Alice {naive). Yes, wasn't it sour.? and so many seeds. But 
I, too, can never forget that to you I owe my life. 

Henry. Oh! That calf! 

Alice. What ? 

Henry. I say that calf— never imagined that when he grew to 
be a raving bull he would cause me so much — 

Alice. Pain ? Did he then hurt you ? 

Henry. Pain ? Yes ; that is — no, joy. He shot me through 
the heart. {Aside.) What an ass I am making of myself ! 

Alice. The bull shot you through the heart ? 

Henry. No ; I mean he ought to be shot through the calf — 
I mean heart. {Wiping his forehead.) 

Alice {feelingly). And you risked your life for me ! 

Henry {aside). O blessed calf! {Aloud.) I beg you'll say 
no more about it. Realh', you embarrass me, Miss ! I believe 
frankness is the best. I am blunt, but truthful. I — I — love 
you — love you more than tongue can tell. 

Alice. Oh, my! how you do talk! Yet the assistance you 
gave me — your courao^e — 

Henry. Always thinking of that calf — I mean bull. The fact 
is, I am always making a bull about that calf. (Alice smiles. 
Aside.) ' Ah ! she does see that ; /thought it wasn't bad. {Aloud.) 
Let's say no more about my service. Truly my intentions are most 
honorable. I have asked you to marry me after full consideration. 
My name is Henry Mason, and — now — what do you say ? 

Alice. I certainly owe you a debt of gratitude, but still I am 
not exactly free to decide. I am not yet of age — and — and — 
then I hardly know you — 



12 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Henry. Then let me ask the consent of your relatives. As I 
say, my name is Henry Mason ; I have a good home and two thou- 
sand a year. Every one here knows me. My property is here. 
My relatives are here. Indeed, that's why/ am here now, — to 
vote in the election that is going on. 

Alice (at a loss). Well, really — 

{Enter from 4, Norcross, rnantcscript in hand,) 

Nor. Are you ready, my love ? 

Alice (aside). Oh, dear ! I forgot all about uncle. 

Henry (aside). Ah ! The papa, that's evident. Now to get his 
consent. 

Nor. (aside /^ Alice). Who is this gentleman ? 

Alice (confused) . Oh ! He — he — he's a very influential citi- 
zen here. 

Nor. (aside, taking off hat) . By Jove! suppose I try the effect 
of my speech. (Puts on his glasses. Henry ^////Norcross ap- 
proach each other ^ one with head up and the other dow?t, and, strik- 
ing an attitude^ both speak at the same time.y 

Alice, (aside). What are they going to do ? 

Henry. Respected sir, not without diffidence do I venture — 

Nor. Sir, on an occasion like the present — (Both stop a7id 
look at each other, theji repeat as before.) 

Henry. Respected sir, not without diffidence do I venture — 

Nor. Sir, on an occasion like the present — (Both stop.) 

Nor. (with dignity, refen^ifig to his manuscript) . On an occa- 
sion Hke the present, when the country expects every man to do his 
duty, I have resolved to sacrifice my temporary comfort to my 
country's call. I am a self-made man ; I lay no claim to the advan- 
tages which others may have, but I do profess to have an honest 
heart, a heart entirely devoted to the welfare of the commonwealth. 

Henry (aside). What the devil is all this ? 

Nor. And especially at this particular time, to this particular 
deestrick, and I shall consider that its claims are paramount to any 
selfish considerations. I am more than happy now, and with a 
wife whom I worship, with three darling children, — Thomas, Rich- 
ard, and James (referring to MS.), I mean Henry, now unfortu- 
nately away at school, I might well refuse the honor of an election 
to the Legislature and — (looks at MS. some ti?ne ; confused.) 

Henry (aside). Jupiter! He's the opponent of Uncle Jonas in 
the election. 

Nor. (finds place). Legislature. But, sir, wife and children 
must give way before the call of duty, and — (Looks at MS.) 

Henry. Respected sir, not without diffidence do I venture — 

Nor. (raising voice). And — and honor, — duty and honor. I 
would not wish to influence your vote against your will, still I must 
ask the careful consideration of the claims of one who can con- 
scientiously say ** Homo stnn.'" Yes, sir, " Homo sum.'''' I boast 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. I3 

not. I am a plain, blunt man, and I speak the truth. {Lays 
speech on chimney-piece^ 

Henry. So 1 see. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, 
so help me, Moses ! {Aside.) Ah, Uncie Jonas, I fear I can't 
help you now. My vote must go to my prospective father-in-law. 
{Aloud.) I respect your sentiments. You shall have my vote. 

Nor. {shaking his hand). I thank you, sir. In these times 
every man must go in for the Union — 

Henry. Union ? Yes, sir ; and therefore allow me to say 
{strikes attitude)^ respected sir, not without diffidence do I ven- 
ture — 

Nor. {interrnpting). Excuse me, sir: excuse me, my dear sir ; 
I have very important business to attend to. Come along, my dar- 
ling. {Stops.) Oh, stay ! Allow me, my dear sir, to introduce 
to you my wife — 

Henry {astounded). Wife .^ 

Nor. Mrs. Norcross as is, Miss Hale as was. 

Alice {aside). But, dear uncle. 

Nor. Hush ! Call me Timothy. {Gives his arm.) Good- 
morning, good-morning. 

{Exeimt Alice and Norcross c.) 

Henry {gazing after thein blankly). His wife ! Can it be that 
she is married ? And yet she gave me encouragement, actually 
seemed fond of me, and she a married woman. {Reflecting.) Ah, 
I see — it was an electioneering trick. She was using her ''influ- 
ence." Letting me make love to her. And she with three 
children. Well, it won't work. My vote goes to Uncle Jonas. 
And I listened to his drivel, his speech, ass that I was! Confound 
that calf! I wish I had never seen it. Yet, I do love her. One 
can't shake off love so easily when once it has possession. That 
orange — damn the orange! it certainly was sour; at all events 
these grapes are, and most decidedly forbidden fruit. {Goes to 
windoiv.) There she goes. Jove I she is looking back at this 
window, too. 

{Enter Mary with milk.) 

Mary. Here's your milk, sir. 

Henry {taking it). All right. Now to drown my sorrows 
in the sparkling cup. {Tastes it.) Why, confound it, it is milk ! 

Mary. Yes, sir, mostly milk. They do say our milkman do 
rinse his cans very freely. 

Henry {giving it back to her). Well, put it down ; I'm sure / 
can't put it down, and when you put it down, chalk it up ; no doubt 
it's chalked up enough already. I mean put it in my bill. (Mary 
puts it on chi7n7iey -piece ; about to go.) Wait — see here, my dear. 

Mary {comi7tg back). Well, sir, what is it ? 

Henry. Do you know the gentleman who just went out ? 

Mary {sighing). YWml Dear, dear, yes. 



14 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Henry. Dear ? dear? why dear, dear, my dear? 

Mary. I sigh to think how unhappy they are. 

Henry. Unhappy ? Is she unhappy ? How do you know? 

Mary. Hush ! 1 mustn't talk about it. Servants mustn't be 
gossips. But folks will talk. Oh, such a life as they live ! Most 
always apart. 

Henry. Nothing so dreadful in that. 

Mary. No, perhaps not, when you consider that she snores 
frightfully. 

Henry. Snores ? My angel — I mean /tzs angel snores ? 

Mary. Yes; and they quarrel so when they are together! 
They had hardly met this morning when they began. 

Henry. To quarrel ? Tell me, tell me. 

Mary. I don't know what it was. But I heard something 
about a sealskin. He was angry. She cried. He stamped his 
feet. She did also. Goodness knows he's a brute — that old chap; 
I should not blame her if she wished he was — (^Indicating under 
the sod.) 

Henry. Well, well, — was what ? 

Mary. Well, that he was put on ice to cool off. {Laughs.) 

Henry {taking his tiaps). Pshaw ! 

{Exit Mary, laughing,) 

Heavens, what a v/orld ! The woman I love unhappy. Her hus- 
band a brute. The devil tempts me. No; get thee behind me, a 
good ways behind me, you imp of darkness. It shall be my cousin 
after all. I will go and throw myself at her feet. 

{Enter c, Alice.) 

hiAZY. {aside) . He is still here. How dreadful that he thinks 
I am married, and I can say nothing to undeceive him, nothing till 
to-morrow. 

Henry {seeing her; aside). Three children, — Thomas, Rich- 
ard, and James, — all away at school. {Gesture of despair.) 

Alice. He does not speak to me. He is angry. (^Coughs.) 

Henry {aside). She coughs — yet somehow she does not look 
consumptive ; I don't know why, but she don't. {Turns.) Ah, 
Mrs. Norcross, so soon returned ? 

Alice. Dear, me ! how you startled me ! 

Henry. Madam, why did you deceive me.^ Why did you 
allow the tendrils of love to twine about my calf — I mean my 
heart. Why did you not say, stay, sir, I have a husband and more 
or less children? Had you said stay, I would have gone ; that is, 
I mean I never would have gone — on to say what I did say, when 
you did not say stay — {Confused.) 

Alice. Oh! if you only knew — 

Henry. Knew? Knew what, Mrs. Norcross ? 

Alice {aside). "Mrs. Norcross." How fearfully horrid to be 
called Mrs. Norcross ! 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 1 5 

Henry. For your sake I abandoned a lovely girl, a girl with 
light blue hair and golden eyes, I mean — never mind what I mean. 
It is not yet too late ; I will go to her and ask her to love me once 
more. 

Alice. No, no. Don't go to her. Don't beg her to love you 
once more. I beg you don't. 

Henry. What, shall 1 for your sake, and for that of your hus- 
band and the indefinite children, pass my days in single wretched- 
ness ? 

Alice (das/i/ulfy). No. 

Henry. No ? Do 3^ou mean, then, that I shall go on loving 
you ? 

Alice {bashfully). Yes. 

Henry. Well, this is a staggerer ! But you know I ought not 
to love you. (Alice looks straight ahead. Aside.) She's strug- 
gling with her emotions. {Aloud.) Pardon the suggestion, but it 
occurs to me that your husband might prove a slight obstacle to 
our happiness. 

Alice {quickly). Oh ! only for a little while, a very little while, 

Henry {aside). I declare this coolness is amazing. {Aloud.) 
Then Mr. Norcross is in poor health 1 

Alice. Oh, no! He's well enough. But that's no matter. 
Only have patience. Give me a little time. 

Henry. Patience ? Yes. But I'll be shot if I see through this 
business. Now if you were only a widow — 

Alice. Ah ! matters can change very much in twenty-four 
hours. Only have patience f©r four and twenty hours. 

Henry. Four and twenty hours ! But tell me — 

Alice. Oh, I've said too much already! {Mysteriously^ 
Don't ask me any more questions. I'll soon be rid of my husband. 
{Exit into No. 3.) 

Henry. Well, I atn in the dark, that's a fact. Get rid of him? 
Now if nature in the shape of apoplexy, or gout in the stomach, 
should step in to the rescue ; but, confound it ! the old fellow don't 
look it. Death is the lot of all. I suppose his turn will come 
some time — {Starting.) Great Heavens ! suppose she intends to 
supply the place of nature. What did she say ? *' Rid of him,'* 
** Twenty-four hours." Yet she seems innocent and harmless as a 
dove. Innocuous as the rose or violet. Yet there are even flowers 
which are as deadly as beautiful. Why, now I think, the delicate 
and toothsome mushroom, the gentle truffle, is most nearly like the 
deadly toadstool. '* Rid of him," *' Four and twenty hours." {Shud- 
ders.) No. I'll fly to my Cousin Nellie. {Enter Mary. Henry 
takes up bags, etc.) 

Mary. Your room is ready now, sir. 

Henry. Don't want it. Going to leave. 

Mary. What ? So soon ? 

Henry. See here, my dear, my hands are full. See if you can 
find a quarter in my vest pocket. {Aside.) I must try to save 



l6 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

the unhappy man. {Alo7id.) Oh ! {Squirms, Mary takes out a 
qiiarter.^ See if you can't find another. (Mary does it with 
same business. Mary laughs.) Now hold on to them and hsten. 
If Mr. Norcross wants anything to eat or drink, mind, you give 
him nothing — absolutely nothing. Say there isn't anything in 
the house. 

Mary. What do you mean ? 

Henry. At most, only a glass of water, nothing else. 

Mary. But he'll starve to death. 

Henry. That's so ; he may as well be poisoned as to starve to 
death. Let him have eggs then. Boiled eggs, and nothing else. 

Mary. I won't do it. They would turn me out of the house. 

Henry. You won't .'^ Then put back that money into my 
pocket. 

Mary. You told me to hold on to it, and I'm going to. 

{Exit Mary laughing.) 

Henry. Well, as a guardian angel she did not pan out very 
well. What shall I do? They'll suspect me of being an accessory 
before the fact. I see the storm gathering about my devoted head. 
I will fly — fly to the arms of my Uncle Jonas — and yet my love for 
this woman — I am bound to this spot, bound in calf as it were. 
Damn that calf! I wish I had never seen it. Stay, I must save 
this poor devil of a Norcross. Simply out of common humanity. 
{Puts down his bundles. Takes out a pocket note-book and writes.) 
Sir, your life is in danger. I beg of you to drink nothing, to eat 
nothing, unless it be eggs, eggs boilfed, and these only when you 
have removed the shells yourself; signed, *' A Friend of Humanity." 
{Tears out leaf.) Now how shall I get it to him ? {Looks around^ 
Aha !, his speech. {Takes it.) I'll put it in there. {Does so.) Now 
I hope to goodness he'll read that speech over again soon ! 

{Enter Norcross c) 

Nor. {joyful). Aha! my speech was just the thing. I had 
no idea what an impression it would make. Morse is just done for. 
Ha, ha, ha ! 

Henry {comes to hiin slowly ajtd mysteriously). Do you know, 
sir, that he who laughs before breakfast may cry before supper 1 

Nor. {surprised). What do you mean ? 

Henry {aside). He does not look sick. {Aloud.) Sir, be 
frank with me. Tell me honestly, how do you feel.'* 

Nor. First rate, first rate. 

Henry. Haven't you a pain anywhere? {Feeling of him.) 
Here for instance? Or here ? 

^o^, {getting away). No, sir ; not a bit. {Aside.) What the 
deuce is he up to? 

Henry {aside). My suspicions are correct. {Aloud.) Really 
no pain? Here, perhaps? {Feeling of his ribs.) 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. I7 

Nor. {getting away). See here, sir, do I look like a gentleman? 

Henry. Why, of course ; yes. 

Nor. {similar business as that with Heeler) . Well, sir, allow 
me to insinuate in a thoroughly respectful and gentlemanly manner 
that though I have had the pleasure ot knowing you but a short 
time, I shall still feel at liberty, if you don't take your cursed sharp 
claws out of my ribs, to wring your infernal neck, you little sun of 
a gun ! 

Henry {astonished). What! {Milder^ Ah, sir, if you only 
knew I Remember no one can read the book of Fate. 

Nor. What's that to me t 

Henry {pointing to MS.), Rewrite that speech ; rewrite that 
speech. 

Nor. Well, this is the worst crank I have struck in my life. 

Henry. Well, long life to you, Norcross. Long life to you. 
Do you hear f You'll bear witness that I wished you a long life. 
{Gathers bundles and takes hat.) 

Nor. {uneasy). See here. What do you mean ? Is my life in 
danger? 

Henry {sighs). Poor devil ! Well, I'll ease my conscience by 
voting for him. That will remove suspicions from 7ne, Long life 
to you, Norcross. 

Nor. {stops hi7n). What do you mean? 

Henry {mysteriously). Rewrite your speech, unhappy man. 
Rewrite your speech. {Exit c.) 

Nor. Now, what the dickens has he to do with my speech ? 
He must be — 

{Enter c. Heeler, excited^ 

Heel. Ten thousand furies ! 

Nor. What's the matter iiow f 

Heel. Everything is lost. 

Nor. {seeing Heeler's hat on his head). Now, Heeler, without 
the slightest ill-will toward you, and entirely free from excitement, I 
beg most politely to inquire why in my presence you will persist 
in keeping that confounded greasy old hat on your miserable head? 
{Kicks at him, and Heeler dodges.) Take it off. Take it off. 
(Heeler does so.) 

Heel. You have made a frightful blunder in accepting that 
invitation to lunch at the Phillipses'. 

Nor. What? Why? How so? 

Heel. Why, the people who are not invited are mad, and they'll 
vote against you. 

Nor. The devil they will ! Then I won't go to the Phillipses'. 

Heel. Then they'll be angry, and you'll lose their votes. 

Nor. What can I do ? I can't go and stay away too. If I was 
only twins. 

Heel, {reflecting). Ah ! here's where your faithful Heeler comes 



1 8 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

to the rescue. I have fixed it. I have found a way out of it 
(Calls.) Mary! Mary! bring me some tea. (Enter Mary.) 
Bring me some tea. (^Exit Mary.) 

Nor. Tea? 

Heel. I said you were ill, had been eating some mushrooms, 
and they had poisoned you. So you see the Phillipses can^t be 
angry, and the others can't either. 

Nor. Heeler, you are a trump, a regular right bower, as it were, 
a knave of trumps. 

Heel. Now you must play the invalid. 

Nor. Of course. {Takes off his coat; calls,) Alice! Alice! 
Bring me my dressing-gown. 

{Enter from her room Alice, who goes into his and brings gown?) 

Alice. Dear me ! what is the matter.? 

Heel. Mr. Norcross is very ill. 

Nor. Yes ; I ate some mushrooms and they poisoned me. 

Alice. Oh, dear! 

Heel. Now I'll be off and circulate the story. {Exit c.) 

Nor. Do I look very pale, my child? 

Alice. I can't say you do. Is there anything you want ? 

Nor. I only want to look pale. {Sits in arin-chair near fire- 
place; takes tall pointed night -cap out of dressing-gown pocket; 
gives it to Alice.) Here, put on my night-cap for me, will you? 

Alice {doing so). Yes, yes ; TU do it. But, what is the matter 
with you, uncle dear? 

Nor. Hush ! '* Dear Timothy,^^ remember. It's nothing my 
child. It's only a kind of church headache, a sort of fever-de-lurk. 
But, my child, tell me something. I fear you use cosmetics on your 
skin. Powder and paint? eh? don't you ? 

Alice {aside) . Oh, dear ! how did he ever find it out? {Aloud,) 
No, uncle, I never paint — really — 

Nor. Nor powder ? Truly, now, I know the facts. 

Alice. I have a little — just a wee little face-powder, uncle, 
just to keep away the chaps. 

Nor. Keep away the chaps? Humph ! I thought it was to draw 
them on. Never mind. Bring it to me. 

Alice. Yes, uncle — I mean Timothy. {Exit in her roo7n.) 

Nor. Ha ! ha ! As if I didn't know that every woman powders. 
It's just the thing to give me a sickly pallor. 

{Enter Alice with powder and puff ,) 

Alice. Here's the powder. 

Nor. {takes it) . Oh ! It is, is it ? Humph ! how do you use it ? 
Make it into a paste, eh ? 
Alice. Oh, no ! Just put it on with this puff. 
Nor. It must be very uncomfortable. 
Alice. Oh, no, it isn't. 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. I9 

Nor. I don't believe it. Let me see. Put some on me ; come, 
now. 

Alice (reluctant) . O uncle ! 

Nor. Hush ! don't call me uncle. Come, now ; put it on, Alice. 

Alice. Well, I suppose I must. (Powders his face.) 

Nor. Put on more; I do not feel it. (Alice ////^ oit a lot.) 
There, that's more like it. That'll do. 

Alice. There, you see it is not bad. (Goes to wipe it off.) 

Nor. Here. Let it alone. It may grow to feel bad after a 
time. I must try it. (Alicf. pzcts box on table and^ looking at NOR- 
CROSS, laughs?) 

Alice. Ha ! ha ! ha I How funny you look with your white cap 
and your white face ! 

Henry (appearing at door). There, IVe voted for him. My 
conscience is so much Hghter. 

Nor. (seeing Henry). Hulloa ! my lunatic again. 

Henry (seeing Kiaq,^ laughing)^ Why this mirth ? 

Alice (with difficulty suppressing laughter) . Oh ! It is nothing 
— only Mr. Norcross is ill. 

Henry (coming forward alarmed). Heavens! and you can 
laugh ? 

Nor. (groans). Oh ! Ah ! Um ! 

Henry (seeing Norcross' face for the first time). Great 
Heavens ! The deed already done ! (Going to him.) You appear 
to he ill, sir. 

Nor. Oh, yes. I was so imprudent as to eat some mushrooms. 

Henry (excited). 'Tis done. Truffles, I mean trifles, h'ght as 
air are confirmations strong as proofs from holy writ. Oh, why 
did you not rewrite your speech? 

Nor. Now, what the devil have you to do with my speech ? 

Henry {to Alice reproachfully). O madam! Mushrooms! 
How could you? Mushrooms I 

(Enter Mary with teapot.) 

Mary. Here's the hot water ; I will bring the tea directly. 
Alice. Never mind, I have some in my room. 
M.KKY (going to Norcross). Poor man, shall I go for a doctor? 
Alice (hastily). No! No! It is not necessary. Go. 

(Exit Mary.) 

Henry {aside). She will have no doctor. It's as clear as day. 
(To Alice.) O Mrs Norcross ! 

Alice. You here again ? Help me make this tea. (Feelifig 
in satchel.^ 

Henry (helpiftg). Madam, I conjure you in the name of your 
three children, Thomas, Richard, and Henry, — or was it John 
James ? — now away at school, stop in this awful — ( Taking book out 
of satchel^ where he has been looking for tea.) What is this ? 



20 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Alice {hastily). Put it down ; put it down ; don't let him see it. 
Ah ! Here is the tea. {Taking out small tin box.) 

Henry. Not let it be seen .^ Another secret. {Crosses to 
front and opens book ; reads.) '' The Poisoned Violet." Ah, poison, 
poison everywhere. {Throws book on table. Alice, who has been 
drawing the tea^ brings up a little table a7id takes a cup to NOR- 
CROSS.) 

Alice. Here, Timothy dear, here's the tea. 

Henry {aside). Heavens ! She means to finish him off at once ; 
the mushrooms are too slow. 

Nor. Thank you, my dear ; thank you. {Groans?) 

Alice {after pouring tea). Til be back directly. {Exit into her 
room. NORCROSS takes tcp cup ; blows in it.) 

Nor. Ah ! That will do me good. {About to drink.) 

Henry {rushes to him). Hold, sir ; do not drink that. 

Nor. Eh .^ {Drinks.) Why not? {Hk^ky grabs cup away.) 

Henry. He has swallowed it. Oh, why didn't you rewrite your 
speech? Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! 

Nor. Now, what the deuce is the matter Vith my speech? 

Henry {aside). Now 1 am implicated sure. That note will 
show that I knew of the plot. How can I get out of it? {JValks 
about nervously.) 

Nor. {watching him). What are you rushing about in that way 
for? 

Henry {seeing milk). Ah, my milk! I remember a poisoned 
cat that was saved by milk. {Potirs some into Norcross's cup.) 

Nor. Here, what the dickens are you doing? I don't take milk 
in my tea. 

Henry. I can't help it, you must take milk in your tea. (NoR- 
CROSS takes up speech; note falls out.) 

Nor. {picks it up and reads). What's this ? "Your life is in 
danger. Eat nothing ; drink nothing." 

Henry {offer-ingcup). Drink, drink! I wrote it. 

Nor. Ha ! Ha ! Trying to scare me, eh ? Ha ! Ha ! You 
don't fool me ; I know better. 

Henry. He laughs. He actually laughs. Heavens ! how pale 
he is, and he sits there and lauofhs, with one foot in the tea, — I 
mean the grave, — he laughs. Oh, that that hot water was out of 
him* and I out of this hot water ! {Pause.) I must prove my in- 
nocence. (Norcross is about to prepare another cup of tea.) 
Here, give me that ! {Grabs the tin box.) 

Nor. Here, here, what are you doing ? That's my tea. {Holds 
Of I to it.) 

Henry {pulling at it). Let me have it. ' 

Nor. I'll be hanged if I do ! 

Henry. And I'lf be hanged if you don't. Give it here. {Gets 
it away.) There's a chemist next door. I'll have it analyzed and 
prove that I am innocent. {Exit hastily with can.) 

Nor. That chap is as mad as a March hare. 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 21 

{Enter c, Heeler, and from her room, Alice.) 

Heel, {excited). Victory ! victory ! 

Nor. What is it? 

Heel. The polls are closed, and you are elected. 

Nor. {seeing Heeler's hat). My dear Heeler, you probably 
are aware that I value my reputation for gentlemanly conduct 
above everything, and therefore {gradiially getting excited), if you 
don't haul off that miserable old squash from your idiotic old head, 
ril smash this cup on the vacuum that passes for a head with you. 

Heel, {removes hat). You are elected by a majority of one. 

Nor. Whew \ That was close. 

Heel. Yes. Rather. Young Mason's vote did it. Every one 
thought he would vote for his uncle. 

Alice. We are under great obligations to him, aren't we? 

Nor. We are indeed, and I am to you, my child. Now you are 
free again. {Laughing.) In fact, you are a widow, having just lost 
a husband. 

Alice {laughing). To say nothing of three children. 

Nor. {laughs). Ha ! ha ! Now what do you want? Sealskin ? 
Piano? What? 

Alice {bashful). No. I — I — 

Heel, {at window). Quick ! Put on your coat. 

Nor. Why? 

Heel. The boys are coming to congratulate you. {Helps him 
on with coat.) 

Nor. Oh ! The dear public. The free and enlightened con- 
stituency. They must be attended to. {Puts an coat, Alice 
dusts his face with his 7tight-cap?) I'll have to give them the same 
speech over again. Never mind. A good speech ought to go 
twice. By, by, dear. Come, Heeler. {Exettnt Q.) 

Alice. Thank goodness it is all over ! It was so perfectly 
horrid to have Mr. Mason call me Mrs. Norcross. I wouldn't 
mind being Mrs., but not Norcross. . Now I can tell him, and what 
a laugh we'll have, poor fellow ! He seemed to feel so bad when 
he found that I was married. How happy he'll be when I tell him ! 

{Enter Henry, hoi down over his eyes, tea in his hand, melo- 
dramatic.) 

Henry. I have had it analyzed. The chemist found a grain 
and a half of chloride of sodium in it. 

Alice. How he looks ! (Henry ^/^r^^ at her,) Mr. Mason, 
don't look at me in that way. 

Henry. Sodium, madam! Sodium! Chloride of sodium j 
Madam, away ; leave me. 

Alice. And I had such news to tell you, such happy news ! 

Yi^^^Y {still melodramatic). Well, what is it ? 

Alice. I am free at last. 

Henry. And your husband? 



22 A MAJORITY OF ONE. 

Alice. I have none. He is out of the way forever. ^Laughs.) 
I am a widow, as you wished, 

Henry {drops can ; hat falls from his head as he starts in 
horrof). Widow? Then it is all over ! {Groans^) 

Alice. Well ! You don't seem overjoyed, I must say. 

Henry. Overjoyed? Yes; overjoyed that I had no share in 
this business. O woman, have you a heart of stone? Do you 
think there is no hereafter? Oh! why did I not go at once to my 
cousin. 

Alice. Why, Mr. Mason! Don't be angry with me for a little 
joke. 

Henry. Joke ! She calls that a little joke. So cool too. I 
suppose, madam, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew appears to you 
something in the light of a comic almanac* 

Alice. I don't understand you at all. 

Henry. I tremble for you, not only in this world, but in the 
next. 

Alice. And yet this morning you were so bold with that bull. 

Henry. Bull ? No, I can confess it now, it was no bull. It 
was only a playful calf. {Noise outside.^ . 

Alice. What a dreadful noise ! 

Henry {starts). Ha ! What if the crime is already discovered ! 
Yet, there is still time. Fly, madam ; fly! {Tries to pull her 

off^.) 

Alice. Let me alone! You seem to have lost your mind. 
You'd better be bled, or have a shower-bath. 

Henry. Unhappy woman, fl}^, or you are lost. I have been to 
the chemist. Fly, woman ! 

Alice {beginning to cry). He calls me *^ woman,'' 

Henry. I loved you. Ay, love you still, thoui^h I ought to 
hate you. I will save you from the maddened crowd. Here, take 
my cloak, my hat. {Trying to fa?'ce them on her.) 

Alice. Let me be ! I think you are just horrid, there ! Leave 
me alone ! 

Henry. In Heaven's name take my cloak or you are lost! 

{Enter c, Norcross and Heeler.) 

Nor. What enthusiasm ! What a reception I got ! Eh ? 

Henry {ptizzled). Norcross himself! Sir, are you alive ? 
Yes, you are alive ; that is, you look alive. {Feels of him. Nor- 
cross squirms.) Yes, very much alive. 

Alice. Protect me from this man, uncle. 

Henry. What ! Uncle ? 

Nor. Yes ; uncle. I advise you to go and be bled. It'll do 
you good. But how do you know my niece? Can this be the 
young man who saved you — 

Alice. Me from the calf ? Yes. 

Henry. No! No! It was a bull — a raving, roaring, rearing, 



A MAJORITY OF ONE. 2^ 

tearing, red-eyed, sharp-horned bull. {Manner quite changed^ 
Oh, if you only knew ! 

Alice {retreating). Keep away from me. 

Henry {to Norcross). It was a bull, sir ; in fact, it seems to be 
all a bull ; but now — {Strikes attitude as in earlier scene.) 
Respected sir, not without diffidence do I venture — 

Nor. Chestnut. I've heard that before. 

Henry. Your niece is the personification of all that is good and 
lovely and — 

Alice. He seems to be getting a little more rational now. 

Nor. Well, well, what is it that you ** not without diffidence 
venture " } 

Henry {takes Heeler's hat and assumes attitude). Sir, I 
don't understand what is going on here, but I make bold to ask for 
the hand of your niece. (Norcross is silent.) It was a bull I 
assure you. {Earnestly?) 

Nor. But {to Alice) I only promised you a sack ! 

Alice. Well, I want this muff to go with the sack. 

Heel. And I my post-office. 

Nor. You shall have it. (Heeler gets his hat ; throws it up 
for joy and puts it on his head.) And you, sir, may have my niece. 
She has made me a very satisfactory wife to-day, and I can guaran- 
tee she'll nurse you well if you ever get ill from eating mushrooms. 
Ha ! Ha ! 

Henry {taking Alice by the hand). Then, my dear, since it is 
no longer unlawful, I'll love you from now on forever. We'll live 
on love — 

Alice {naive). And mushrooms? 

Nor. {observing the hat on Heeler). Now, Heeler, as to that 
hat, allow me in the politest and most gentlemanly — (HEELER^rrt:^^ 
off hat at beginning of speech, which is cut off by quick curtain as 
Norcross is beginning to get excited.) 



A NEW BORDER DRAMA, 



RIO GRANDE 



AN ORIGINAL DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. 



By CHARLES TOWNSEND. 

Author of **The Spy of Gettysburg," "The Woven Web," "Border 
Land," "Broken Fetters," etc., etc. 



:>even male, four female characters. Modern costumes; scenery, one interior 
and one exterior. Time m playnig, two hours and twenty minuies. 



This is the latest play of Western life, and one of the finest dramas ever 
written by this brilliant and successful author. Its interest is unflagginjj, it i^ 
full of b.ight, clean fun, and roaring comedy situations alternate with thrilling 
and pathetic scenes. Rvery cliaracier is a goyd one and worthy of tlie Lest 
talent. This piece can be played m any hall or upon -any stage, as there are n(» 
difficulties in costumes or scenery. Printed directly from the author's acting 
copy, and preceded by a chapter of *' Remarks" in which are given, in the 
author's own words, special instructions regardnig the play, the acting of each 
part, and all necessary details of stage-management. 

Price, « . . 25 Cents. 



SVNOPSIS : 

* 

ACT I. The First Day. —Sitting-room at Lawton's. Ju(tge Biggs renders an 
opinion. Casey in doubt; Segura fails to score. Paul and Ketta. Jealousy. 
The arrival. Maniie and tlie Ju(jge. Trouble ahead. A threatene<l quarrel. 
The proposal. Refused. '* Answer him nothing." The vow. Tableau. 

ACT II. The Second Day. — The lawn near the parade ground. The holiday 
soldier, Johnnie in trouble. An "American- aristocrat" Cadwallador 
frightened. Biggs indignant. The Indian outbreak. Segin*a's plan. A 
cunning plot. The marriage certiticate. Paul and Retta. Some clevtr 
acting. Segura's triumph. The quarrel. A broken engagement. *• Boots 
and saddles 1 " Biggs asa gnUh\ '^ 'I won't cryJ*: The departure. Tableau. 

ACT III. The Third Day. — Sitting-room at Lawton's. The anxious watch- 
ers. Retta'3 sorrow. The Jiew friends. Cadwallader'a mishap. Rlami<»\s 
sympathy. ** Thafiks awfully." Biggs arrives. \ ning row. Cadwal- 
lader's resolution. Segura's cunning. Home a^.xin. Retta's coMff*«i<>?f 
Laying the train. " He has a wife already." Paul in trouble. : 
|ilodes themine^ Paul in dangtM-. De.iili of H •" i. I'ii.il.. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




ENTIRE NOVEL 017 198 597 3 i 




THE GREAT MORA 

Dime Show 



AN ENTERTAINMENT IN ONE SCENE. 



By MARY B. HORNE, 

Author of "Tjie Peak Sisters," Piiof. Baxter's Great Invention 
*'The Book of Drills," "The Carnival of Days," 
"Plantation Bitters," Etc. 



Nine male, seven female cliaracte»'s. Costumes simple; scenery an ordiuarv 
interior, or may be dispensed with altogether. Plays from half an hour upWHrtf. 
according to the number and character of additional ppecialties intro<luced. 
IMinted exactly as first performed by the Unity Club, \Vatertowu, Mast., on 
I'riday evening, February 5, 1892. 



T])is most amusing entertainment is a burlesque of the ordinary '*dime- 
nn>euMi,'* so-calle<t, hut is entirely devoid of the vulgarity of its original, aud 
{•erfecily adapted to church or home performance. The characters are, save the 
lecturer and her a>sistant, aMomlerful collection of *• freaks" of naiure (Bome- 
Avhat ju^sisted by {irt) who i»ing, dance or recite, according to their special 
abilities, in illu.-tration <•! the explanatory lectu e. It is most elastic in its 
requirements, can be played on any staye or platform, with or without scenery, 
HJid with a greater or smaller number of characters, according to taste or 
necessity. It can be made uproariously funny, and is in character as well as fact 

A SEQUEL TO THE PEAK SISTERS. 



Price, 



15 Cents. 



sir25ro:E>sis. 

SCENE.— The exhibition hall of Sister Keziah's Show. Sister Keziah's intro- 
ductory lecture. Johnathan, the bashful assistant. Introductory hymn. 
Introduction of the "freaks." Daniel McGinty redivivus. Daniel's song 
Lucia Zarate, the celebrated Mexican dwarf. Kioto, the ihortest nmti 
alive, not jiim0iaVy. The wonderful Mermaid. The MerUiaid's eong. 
Cassius White, the ossified boy. A **rocky" recitation. Kallulc, the 
only specimen of his kind in captivity; illustrated by cuts. Signor Galabsi, 
the celebrated Glass-Eater. Galassi sings. Allegro Penseroso, the won- 
derful two-headed girl; not to be confounded with the more common two- 
fnced girl. Two ways of eating a pickle. Ida and Ione. the Grecian 
mauieus. Raphael Tintoret, the blinil painter, who paints blinds in full 
view of the audie- ce. Ah Chin and Wuv Lung, the Chinese twins, .\- 
%remely well connected from birth. •• The Land of Tea." Ka-FOOZLE-ki i 
the- Tiuksh vocalist. <JrMii<i finale and curtain. 



